Survivor
by Sirwalterbeck
Summary: A one-shot from a member of the Tanith 1st and only  considering adding into larger story  please comment on this idea in reviews


The world went bright and the ringing set in. Krobell shook his head furiously to clear his vision and looked around. The trench was filled with his dead squad, a metre closer and the shell would have vapourised him. "Gak" he swore as he put weight on his left leg. "So i'm not completely unscaved." Picking his lasgun off the floor he shook it to clear the mud off its barrel and checked its charge. Satisfied that its charge was full he set off back down the trench to search for the rest off his platoon. He barely made to the end of the his squads tansit trench when a mortor round hit the wall of the trench behind him. Frobell was flung forwards and impacted into a deep pond of dark muddy water. "Gak" he swore again gasping for air. "Nothing seems to go my way, well if it did i would be head of the foundry back on Verghast instead of having my home demolished and signed up to having the rest of my happy little life being shot at by artillery" he mused. Picking himself up he continued down the length of the trench and moved towards the supporting trenches.

A brief chattering of gunfire sounded ahead before dieing away. Forbell limped towards the side of the trench hugging the wall as he prepared for combat. Readying his lasgun he pressed his eye to the sights and aimed towards the corner where the fighting came from. The first thing he saw was a burned tattooed face pop round the corner shouting in rage branishing a rusty hatchet. His face changed to a read mist as the first las round hit him between the eyes. Three men similarly garbed followed him armed with a assortment of weaponry. The first one died as las round impacted into his torso jerking him like a rag doll before one clipped his arm ,spinning him around into the mud, his blood dissapating into the ground. Forbell had only enough time to draw his silver Fist and Only dagger before the second foe was on him with a flurry of blows. Parrying instictively Frobell held grimly onto his blade while the force of the blows jarred his arm. Waiting for his moment, his lashed out with his other fist breaking the chaos soldiers nose before stabbing him through the eye piece of his mask. Pushing him off the dagger he had no time to dodge the crunching punch to his face made by his final opponent. Staggering back he had just enough time to make the measure of the man he was facing.

He wore a set of loose , fairly rusted chain mail over his tatter leather uniform dotted with iron clasps sporting the symbols of the enermy. Weilding his axe with one hand as if it was a childrens toy, Frobell guessed he had run into a enermy champion. That was all the time he had to think before he was upon him swinging his axe towards his neck. The speed the weapon was swung at convinced Frobell that he was outmatched. Diving to the ground he felt the air move as it was parted by the axe blade as it swung just above him. Rolling along the ground Frobell attempted to stab at the chaos champion but it was easily parried aside. Both men circled one another waiting for a break in the others concentration. A shell landed near by splattering both men in mud. Frobell dived for his gun his leg screaming in pain. As he grabbed it a heavy boot stepped on it. Looking up his saw the demonic grinn of the champion as he lifted his axe to swing down. A figure leapt out of the mud embanked wall behind the champion and stabbed him, the knife blade jutting forwards out of the chaos follower's throat. The light died in his eyes and he slumped forwards. The man grimanced with effort as he wrenched the knife out of the corpse.

Splitting out a globlet of mud onto the floor he gave a brief grin. "Mkolls the name, i'm the regiments cheif scout, thanks for the distaction, i've been waiting for that fethhead to let his guard down for half an hour now, but next time down be so suicidal, i'm suprised you still have a skull for them to try and claim." Looking around at the dead, Forbell replied "Yeah, your not the only one." Turning around he saw Mkoll moving down the trenches. Mkoll turned "you coming, Gaunt wants all the ghosts he can for the counter-attack." Frobell checked his lasgun and pulled the priming lever. He noticed one of the chaos injured still struggling to reach for his autopistol with his ruined arm. "Just finishing up here and i'll catch you up". Frobell strode towards the man ignoring the pain in his leg. The fanatic looked up with anger and hate in his eyes. "Blood for the...".

Crack

His head vanished as the las beam sheared his skull off his body. "He can start with yours" Frobell said with a grimace.


End file.
